The Road Taken
by rockngnome
Summary: The boy leaves his father to join the family in their fight for survival. But what hope and horrors lie ahead of them? And are there other "good guys" like them? Note: Discontinuation at chapter 6.
1. The Family

**I've just finished studying The Road in my English class. Despite the annoying lack of punctuation in the novel, I quite liked the book and now I'm starting my second fanfiction story on it. So please, enjoy! (Also, thanks to the readers who reviewed my first story even to the ones who didn't like it. The good thing about criticism is that you can use it constructively.)**

* * *

'Oh, I am so glad to see you.'

The woman put her arms around the boy and held him. When she released him, the boy glanced over at the two children who stared back. The brother looked about one or two years older than him and was almost as skinny as the boy. The boy knew himself to be about eight years old but as far as he could tell, the sister looked to be about six. She shyly stared up at him with curious eyes before looking back down on the ground.

Now facing the man, the boy asked, 'Are you going south?'

'Yes,' the man said, 'we are.'

'Do you think it'll get better down there?'

'I won't lie to you. Probably not, but the point is to keep moving.'

'Okay.'

Shuffling their backpacks onto their shoulders, the boy followed the family across the snow. During the few hours they walked, occasional glances were exchanged between the three children, and even fewer were the slightest of smiles. It came to a point where the sister could not keep up so the brother slung her onto his shoulders.

Eventually the sun gave in as well and the night began to form. The sky darkened bit by bit as the boy started to yawn, steam flowing from his mouth into the cold evening air. Amidst the silence, a tree collapsed somewhere far behind them. Not too long after that, the man stopped to peer into the distance.

'Shelter,' he said. 'Finally.'

Stepping closer to the lone building the man had seen, the boy slowly deciphered the faded sign that sat on the roof. "Corner Store" was all he could pick up from the disappearing red paint. The door swung slightly, unlocked in the increasingly harsh wind. Without further ado they entered the store, making sure the door was locked once everybody was inside.

The man stepped forward and pulled out a torch, shining it towards the darkness. Not surprisingly, the place was a wreck. Shelves lay broken on top of other shelves and bits of metal lay next to other bits of metal. The man sighed and took one more step before his foot came into contact with something that began to roll towards the shelves. Pointing the torch at the object, he eyed an intact jar of spaghetti sauce.

The brother finally placed his sister on the ground and joined in staring at the jar. He bent down and picked it up with one hand and observed it from its bright label to the tiniest of scratches. The sister walked past him and circled the room in a slight daze. She looked back at her mother and said, 'Maybe there's more stuff around here.'

The boy watched as the family searched the building, also finding a segregated bathroom somewhere in the corner. Random items were quickly found all over the place much to the sister's excitement. After a few minutes of searching, the spaghetti sauce was gathered alongside a bag of assorted candies, two cans of baked beans, a can of tuna and lastly found by the boy, a lantern and an undisturbed can of Coca-Cola.

The man motioned for everyone to sit around the items whilst staring at the Coca Cola. After a moment or so, he smiled.

'It's been a while since I had one of those,' he said.

The sister observed the can curiously. 'What is it?'

The boy stuck his middle nail underneath the clip of the can and clicked it open. He heard the same fizzing sound that came out when his own father gave him the drink. The boy sat next to the sister and handed her the can.

'Try it. You'll like it."

She hesitated for a bit, letting the can hover slightly below her lip. She looked up at her brother, then her father for some sort of advice.

'Go on,' the brother encouraged. 'He's right, you'll like it."

The sister slowly brought the can to her lips and tilted it. The fizzing as well as the taste caught her off guard and nearly choked her. Trying not to spit it out, she swallowed loudly and thought of the remaining taste on her tongue.

'It's bubbly,' she said.

After a short but content dinner, the parents unzipped their bags and handed out thick blankets to the children. Then laying out sleeping bags for themselves, the parents told the children to sleep. 'We have a big day ahead of us', they said. But before the boy could doze off, he noticed the mother pulling a book out of her bag. He lay listening as her soft voice began to read out aloud.

'In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth, and the earth was welter and waste and darkness over the deep and the wind of God hovering over the waters, and God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light...'

Spacing out on 'light', the boy turned his back to the woman and began to weep. He buried his face into the blankets making sure that the family could not hear him. He wished his father was there. He wished that the blankets were his father's arms cradling him every time he cried. But as much as he wished, the boy knew nothing could ever bring him back.

When the mother had finished reading, she crept into her sleeping bag and gradually drifted off to sleep. The boy waited for a bit before he was sure everybody was fast asleep. His face finally dried but his eyes were still moist, being tempted to weep some more. Releasing his head from the blankets, he stared up and softly whispered to the ceiling.

'Hi, Papa,' his voice cracked. 'I told you I'd talk to you.'

He paused and bit his lip. What else could he talk about? His mind calmly searched for some sort of answer. Anything that he could come up with.

'I'm safe,' he assured. 'I'm with the good guys. They're really nice.' He paused once more before deciding there was nothing else to talk about. 'I guess that's it. Good night.'

And with that, the boy closed his eyes.


	2. Going South

Nobody bothered to count the days, let alone the months. The sky continued to be the grey bastard that loomed over everything in existence. The clouds refused to let the sun through and often rained painfully hard on the family whenever the chance arose. In pictures and what his father had told him, the boy knew the sky was once beautifully blue with a great brightly blinding sphere floating up high.

He didn't know how old he was exactly, but it didn't take long to realise that he was no longer eight.

They continued down south as usual, stopping only for obtaining food, supplies and shelter. The road was still frosted over with ice and snow and trees snapped and fell nearby. Sudden earthquakes were their worst enemy aside from vicious strangers who longed to tear at their flesh. Some time during their daily trek, the boy caught sight of a massive billboard that read "Welcome to Louisiana".

The name rung more than one bell in the boy's mind. Pulling out his father's map, he traced the name to the bottom half of North America. Confusion crossed him as a look of concern formed in his frown.

'We're heading west,' the boy stated.

The family stopped and stared at him peculiarly. The man walked over to the boy and observed the map. After a brief glance, the man scratched his head.

'We're heading south,' the man said. 'You see, we must cross a few places to get to Mexico.'

'Are we going to Mexico?' the boy asked.

'There and more. We might end up in South America if we keep moving, but of course that'll take some time.'

The boy tried to hide a deep frustration that lingered in his heart. He knew that they had to keep moving even if it was for the rest of their lives, but he still longed to settle somewhere. The emotions got the better of him and tears streamed down and warmed his face. The man knelt next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

'I know you're upset, but we have no choice,' the man said.

'I'm sorry,' the boy sobbed, hating himself for feeling weak. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay. I'm sorry too.'

The man wiped away the boy's tears and stood back up. Without another word said, the woman took the boy by the hand and led him on. The siblings sympathetically walked by his side with their heads down.

More silence followed as the cold threatened to freeze off their ears. Nobody spoke for another long and uneventful while. Occasionally the mother might hum a tune or two, creating barely noticeable grins from the children. Then finally, sometime during the late afternoon the boy looked up at the man.

'What's South America like?' he asked. 'Do you know?'

The man was glad for the starting conversation. 'I don't know too much,' he replied. 'I've never been, but they used to teach it in schools.'

The boy knew what a "school" was. Papa had told him all about his wonder years in school, everything from what they had learnt to the friends he made. The thought of being surrounded by crowds of people in a large building intrigued the boy.

The man continued. 'They mentioned amazing sights, like the vast green landscapes, the gigantic waterfalls and the luscious rainforests...'

'Luscious?'

'Beautiful.'

'Were there people there?'

'Of course. Loads of them. Many of them spoke Spanish which was another thing they taught in my generation.'

'Could you teach me?'

The man smiled and nodded. Although he wasn't overly fluent in Spanish, he knew enough to blurt out many different phrases. He taught the boy to say a few basic greetings like "hello", "how are you?", "what is your name?" and "it's good to see you". Saying the phrases twisted his tongue, yet he liked it. The boy's brain was like a brand new sponge, soaking in and keeping the information, reluctant to let it go.

The day slowly drew in the evening atmosphere when they arrived under a cluster of trees. The man turned his head to the left, then to the right, making sure that there were no nearby followers. Cans opened and sleeping bags were laid on the hard ground. As usual the woman brought out her bible and read out another chapter, lulling the sister to sleep almost instantaneously. The boy would turn his back on her but his attentiveness still allowed him to listen to every word she said.

The boy wasn't too sure whether or not he believed in God. But he liked the idea of a strong and over-powering man, floating up high and observing everything that happened on Earth. He rarely ever prayed as he usually whispered to his papa every night. Whether or not God existed, the boy knew he would always be on his side.

When all was silent, the boy lay facing the sky. The branches of the trees obstructed his view, but he could see the stars clearly enough. There were more stars than usual that evening, or maybe he never truly noticed how many there were every night. He loved watching them shine and twinkle like the jar of glitter he once played with as a curious toddler.

But the peace was interrupted with a loud bang. All jolted awake with a sudden fear in their hearts. The family sprung to their feet and crouched in silence. The boy carefully pulled out his pistol and aimed it towards the darkness of the road. Nobody dared to move. All eyes and ears looked and listened for any sign of movement. The brother flickered his eyes to his left and immediately pointed his finger.

'Look!' he whispered frantically.

Nobody could see clearly but everyone knew what the brother was directing at. Somewhere in the distance was a tall figure, creeping closer and closer towards them. The family crouched lower, hoping that they wouldn't be noticed. The boy still pointed his pistol at that someone who was or wasn't about to find them. As the figure edged closer, they all saw that it was a man. A man with an intimidating rifle in one hand.

The family crouched even lower until they couldn't lower anymore. Simultaneously they all held their breaths as the man walked past them. He didn't even look at them much to their relief and headed off somewhere far to their right. When they were sure he was gone, everyone began to breathe normally again.

The boy sighed in absolute relief, glad that he didn't have to shoot anyone. He shoved his pistol back into his belt and lay back into his sleeping bag. All else did the same, however nobody wanted to fall asleep just yet. Everyone was more awake than ever, and more than ready to jump to their feet if the slightest of sounds clicked into their brains.

The woman fell asleep first about an hour later, followed by the man, then finally the sister. The boy was barely about to drift when he heard the sound of sniffles. Cautiously sitting up, he looked over at the brother. The brother's face was hidden by his pale hands as he tried to stop the tears from leaking out. Quietly, the boy pulled his sleeping bag to lie next to the brother. Upon adjusting himself, the two boys stared at each other.

'What's wrong?' the boy asked.

The brother shuddered. 'I don't know.'

'Are you scared?'

The brother wanted to nod, but couldn't bring himself to. Luckily he didn't have to answer as the boy sighed, 'Me too.'

Both of them stared up at the sky once more. The stars were still there and they sparkled more than ever. The night was full of chill but it helped to two of them to slowly fall into a graceful slumber.


	3. Miracle

The man did not wait to teach the children to protect themselves. After finding some food for the night, it became a routine for the man to order the three to their feet. He was never harsh in teaching them self-defence, but he was firm enough to make the message sink into their heads. Within nights, the children learnt to effectively punch, kick and to escape from an enemy's grasp. The training routine had taken place every evening for a year or so.

According to the parents, the brother had just turned twelve when they had reached the fringe of Mexico. They made no happy celebration of it but instead acknowledged that "he was a big boy now." The boy was barely ten at this stage and the sister was obviously eight. Childish ideas still swept in and out of her head at times, but she matured quicker than ever.

The air improved slightly as nobody could taste the salt on their lips anymore. The ash was still there, but it was good to see the snow lightening for once. Trees could still be heard cracking and collapsing from a distance, but they were becoming scarce. As they spent the afternoon trudging along the road, the family barely noticed that it had been a while since anyone had seen a house, let alone a shed or anything similar.

Something jerked all heads up. Nobody dared to move one bit. The creepy silence chilled the air and chilled all spines. The woman quickly turned to her back and held back a gasp. Before anyone else could look, she let out a fierce whisper of, 'Run!'

The family broke into a run without any questions or words. The boy was panting for breath and was more than tempted to take one peek behind him. As he began to turn his head, the woman immediately shouted, 'Don't turn!'

The sound of them trampling on the hard ground preoccupied their ears for ten seconds or so. The icy wind whooshed past them and froze faces and flesh. However it wasn't long until the children could hear other sounds as well. They hadn't even begun to tire when the sounds of shouts and rushing footsteps edged closer and closer, louder and louder. The brother finally consented to break the rule of not looking at their backs.

Five strong-looking men were catching up. All were bearded yet didn't seem to be any older than their mid-thirties. As soon as the brother turned back around, a warehouse was sighted just to the left of the road. Nothing needed to be said; they were heading towards the warehouse.

As they drew in closer, the man ran faster with his hands outstretched, ready to open the door for the family. Grabbing the door handle with both hands, he slid it open and pulled his son in, then the boy and then his wife. Before he could pull his daughter in, the blonde man appeared and pulled back on her hood.

The family watched in horror as the sister tried to scream through gloved hands. The men surrounded them, all with knives or revolvers drawn. They gestured for the family to get into the warehouse and upon doing so, the men followed them in. The sister struggled to free herself from the blonde man's grip but to no avail. With his other hand, he aimed a revolver towards the family.

'We'll be having a feast tonight,' he hissed and gained laughter as a response from the other men. 'Perhaps we'll save this girl for later, eh?'

While the men chuckled, the boy didn't think; he pulled out his pistol and aimed at the blonde man. The man and the woman let out a 'no!', only to be restrained by revolvers being pointed at their necks. The boy cocked his pistol, ready to shoot the tall bastard.

A menacing grin shaped the side of the man's lip. 'Go ahead, shoot me!' he mocked in an insane tone. 'But what if you miss and hit your sister here?'

The boy was about to say, 'She's not my sister,' but then decided against that. Instead, he glared at the man and aimed higher. 'I won't miss,' he said.

'But what if you do?'

He paused for a bit, then glared even harder. 'At least she would die painlessly then.'

He held his pistol tightly with both hands, ready to shoot. Or at least he believed he was ready. The boy struggled to keep his face strong and his hands still. He trembled in his aim and he started to feel sick like as if for the first time. The man burst out in a throaty cackle.

'You don't have the guts, boy. Just admit that you can't bring yourself to shoot-'

A sudden bang escaped and all was silent. The boy lowered his pistol as his eyes widened to the blonde man who slowly collapsed to the floor. The sister rushed to the woman and wept like hell while all other eyes were on the back of the dead man's head. A hole was seen with blood gradually spilling out of the reddened skull. Then, another bang cracked. Then another. And another. And another.

The rest of the men fell within the dark atmosphere. The family felt a wave of relief, then before they knew it, panic! They frantically turned in all directions to find some kind of answer to their frightening question. If this was not the boy's doing, then whose was it?

'Up here!'

All eyes darted towards the direction of the voice. Over in the far corner was something tall and slightly intimidating. Within the darkness, the family could make out a scissor lift, outstretched to its maximum height. On the platform that was no taller than thirty feet stood a woman. Two beeps were heard and the machine hummed as it began to lower itself. As the man stepped closer to the lowering lift, he could determine that the woman was no older than her late thirties. When the lift came to a stop, she placed her hand on the railing and jumped over onto the ground.

'What were you doing on that?' the man asked.

'I was checking to see if it was still working after all these years,' she replied with a slight accent that the man guessed, Mexican. 'And I was searching this place for food before you arrived.'

'So, are you on your own?'

'No.' She looked over at the dead bodies, still warm and still bleeding. 'Let's get out of here.'

Everyone followed the stranger, their movements echoing on the flat concrete. She appeared out the door first, the light bursting into her eyes. All the others appeared soon after.

The boy had not expected the light to bring out more details of the strange woman. Her long brown hair shone easily in the bleak weather, and her tanned skin brought out the mixture of colours in her eyes. But it was the neat, black leather jacket that caught all the attention.

'All of you aren't cannibals, are you?' she asked, making it sound like a warning.

'No, of course not,' the man assured.

'Good,' she said. 'I had to check. So, where are you headed?'

'South. How about you?'

'Once the supplies run out for me and my daughter, same.'

'Your daughter?'

The stranger glanced out into the distance before looking back at the the family. 'Follow me.'

They all looked at each other weirdly, then nodded. After taking a couple of steps towards an unknown direction, the stranger turned back around.

'I'm Sofia, by the way.'

* * *

By the time they had reached their destination, the family could not believe their eyes. The man and his wife had their mouths open in an almost-joyful surprise while the children looked on in curiosity. Sofia turned back to the parents and smiled.

'It's been a while since you've seen one, eh?' she said.

It was a glass greenhouse that hovered palms over mouths. Its presence, the mother thought, was one heck of a miracle. This was sheer luck's doing; preventing anyone or anything from knocking it down. The glass, if not covered in dust, looked as good as new.

Sofia walked over and reached for the frozen, silver door handle. Pulling it open, she then gestured for the family to go in first. The man nodded and entered first, followed by the woman, the children, then herself, locking the door behind her.

The boy slouched a little, bringing his hands up to his mouth and blowing warmth into them. The siblings shook a little, glad that the greenhouse provided a bit more heat than the harsh outdoors. The children then joined the parents in quietly observing their surroundings.

Plants covered all corners and all sides of the glass building. The aisles consisted of rough concrete, but the plants supported themselves in large holes of soil. Greens of nearly all types bunched up in certain areas. Tomato plants, apple trees, citrus trees, cabbage patches, sprouts of carrots, the list went on. Dozens of buckets and nearby watering cans were filled with fresh, clean water.

The man finally spoke. 'How did they all survive?' he said. 'I mean, surely the temperature...the lack of light...'

'My best guess is genetic modification,' Sofia stated. 'You know, back in the day.'

The parents sighed a little, but the sister was met with confusion. 'What's genetic moca...?' she struggled, staring up at Sofia.

'When they put things into the plants to make them stronger,' she replied. 'Like injecting nutrients into them so that they can live longer or so that they don't have to rely too much on water. Or light and heat for this matter...'

The man walked over to his right, stretching his arm out to touch a hanging tomato. The bright redness of the fruit shone in his hand and he couldn't help but run his thumb down the smooth, flawless skin. 'It looks like they did a pretty good job,' he whispered, but loud enough for Sofia to hear.

As the family continued to stop and stare, Sofia sauntered to the back of the building. Behind a few bushes lay a full sleeping bag. She crouched down and shook it a little, slowly awakening the girl inside it. When she opened her eyes fully, she smiled at her mother.

'Morning,' the girl said.

Sofia chuckled. 'Evening, you mean. Took a nap, didn't you?'

Before the girl could nod, she looked behind her mother. The boy had followed and stood there, staring at the girl.

'Who's he?'

'I've found some good guys, sweetie,' she whispered. 'Come up and meet them.'

The girl finally stood out of the warm sleeping bag, the boy seeing that she was only slightly shorter than him. She leaned over to look behind the boy, eventually noticing the family observing fruit. She shyly looked back at the boy who then smiled at her. Without thinking, she sheepishly smiled back.


	4. The Girl

They had stayed in the greenhouse for just a number of days. Sofia had allowed the family to help themselves to whatever grew inside the glass building, so long as they did not eat in excess. She was glad to see that the family had their boundaries as well. When the girl wasn't sleeping or eating, she would often stare curiously at the recent guests, observing their actions and conversations between themselves. But it was the boy she was concerned about the most.

Often during the night, she was the last to fall asleep. She made a habit of staring through the glass ceiling to stare at the clouds, wishing that a star would miraculously appear at any moment. The cold often took over and she would tightly shove the top of her sleeping bag behind her shoulders. When she thought that everyone else was asleep, she heard whispers. Barely audible hisses joined the feint snores that created the sound of the night.

She would look over at the boy, barely being able to see his back turned toward her. He shifted slightly from time to time between his quietest whispers. At one point, she thought she had heard him weeping, softly but uncontrollably. And as he spoke, the only words she could catch were "papa", "I'm safe" and "I miss you."

During the family's fifth night at the greenhouse, the boy silently got up. The girl saw him creeping past the others, heading down the main aisle and approaching the door. Slowly turning the lock so that minimal sound could be made, he then swung it open and gently closed it behind him. He took a deep breath and stepped out into the open before stopping a few feet away from the building. The boy dropped his head slightly, keeping his body perfectly still.

After checking to see if anyone else was awake, it was the girl's turn to get up. She skimmed her eyes here and there to make sure she wouldn't walk into anyone. When the coast was clear, the girl followed past the pots and the plants and reached the exit. She opened the door slightly, letting a bit of air rush in and stared out at the boy. He was talking. He spoke out loud like as if there was somebody right in front of him.

The girl could hear him say, '...and I know it's been a while, but I still wish you were here.' He inhaled sharply and released a sigh. 'Papa, I'm glad we found some more good guys. I bet there's more of them out there. They're probably scared or something, or maybe they're still walking like we were...'

The girl moved slightly, the door then letting out a sudden squeak. By the time she froze, the boy spun around. His eye caught hers and she stuttered.

'I'm sorry...' she began.

'No, it's okay,' he said. 'Wanna join me?'

Cautiously shutting the door behind her, she stepped out next to the boy. They both looked out around them like curious orphans in old storybooks. The land lay barren apart from the occasional clumps of trash that rolled past like tumbleweed. Beyond their sights was the sky, dead as usual. The girl blinked once and bit her lip.

'That man you're with...' she said. '...he's not your father, is he?'

The boy turned his head a bit, still not quite looking at her. 'No,' he replied. 'But he's a good man. I like him.'

'So, what happened to your dad?'

'He died.'

Before she could apologise, the boy began to tell his story. He started with how his father was determined for them to "head south", so they did. The boy went on to say that their long journey felt like forever, but the things that they had to face encouraged them to keep going, no matter what. A chill spread throughout the boy's shoulders upon remembering some of the things that he was forced to see. The girl focused peculiarly at him, only speaking when she asked an occasional question. Finally, he mentioned the illness that had plagued his dear father for so long.

'He began to cough once in a while,' the boy said. 'Then there were times when he coughed once a day. Then one day... he fell down and I saw blood coming out of his mouth.'

'That's horrible,' the girl sympathised.

'Yeah...' the boy pondered for a short moment. 'So, by the time we reached that coast, he lay down for a bit. But he never woke up. Then a few days later, the family found me and I joined them.'

'Wow...' the girl murmured. 'That journey's kind of like me and my mother.'

'What do you mean?'

'Before we set out, we lived in Houston, Texas.'

The boy shifted his head upwards, the names ringing bells in his mind. He recalled the paper-strewn wasteland, and he remembered the amount of dirt that liked to clog his lungs and his nostrils. The frozen dead seemed to watch him as he walked past the rotting houses. The one image that stayed with the boy was a skeleton that lay on the road, still dressed in a beautiful, pale blue dress.

'At that time, it was me, Ma and my dad,' the girl began.

His heart jolting on the word "dad", the boy was too quick to realise his fate already.

'When food started to run out, we left for the south. We were going pretty slowly as we found food in random shelters, so we would stay until that ran out. Along the way, we would hide from people. We would always check to make sure if they were good or bad. They were all bad except for this one man we met. His name was John and he joined us for a while.'

The girl felt that she was losing the boy, but he could picture everything that came out of her mouth. He felt the fear she must have felt from constantly hiding and looking out for any signs of danger. Even though she had not confirmed the worst yet, he shared her pain.

'Then one day, we heard people shooting at us. John had already dropped dead but we knew we had to run. It was awful...'

Then it all flashed through the girl's eyes. She remembered feeling warm tears on her face when looking back at the man's motionless body. She didn't want to run away from him, but at that stage her mother was dragging her by the arm. The shots still snapped in the air, making them run even faster. The girl then heard her parents pulling out their weapons, clicking them and then firing back at the shooters. Her father turned his head and continued to blast his revolver relentlessly. The glare on his face made him a formidable opponent.

Her mother carried the same glare, only with more ferocity. Her rifle made it hard to aim properly, yet she managed to take out an arm. The girl had just seen this, looking to a man in the distance, clutching his bloodied arm and yelling. When the girl looked back ahead, her father slowed down behind them.

'You two, keep running!' he commanded. 'I've got your backs!'

It was already known to the women that they should not dare to look back. Their breaths began to thicken and their calves were aching already. The girl continued to cry to the sound of angry gunshots, her eyes desperately attached to the road ahead. Her mother had stopped shooting at this point, now joining her daughter in this wild chase...

'Then we kept on running,' the girl added, suddenly remembering that the boy was waiting for her to continue. 'We didn't look back for a while until we reached a forest. We hid behind a few trees but it wasn't until then we realised that my dad wasn't there.'

She sighed, her eyes starting to water but then stopping instantaneously. The boy lifted his hand to touch her shoulder. As he was about to, his hand hovered for a moment, wondering if it was appropriate. When he decided it was, he rested his palm on her shoulder.

'We waited to see if he would come,' she continued. 'But after a few days, we knew what had happened. Ma then said that we had to keep going no matter what. So we kept on walking and now, here we are.'

The boy made a small smile at her. 'Your dad must've been brave,' he said.

'He was, and I bet so was yours.'

Only the wind replaced the silence that followed. Staring out into the yards, the boy felt what the girl had felt; the emptiness, a poison that nobody could fully contain. He knew it was not his fault that he died, but that did not stop him from feeling like he could have done more. When the chill began to consume his body, he turned to the girl.

'We should get back inside,' he said.

The girl nodded, following the boy to the door. He brought it open, jerking his head inwards to let her in first. She smiled in thanks and walked in, her long coffee-brown hair trailing. Upon locking the door behind him, they both crept down the aisle like wary animals. The nearby leaves shook gently as the two passed.

Reaching their sleeping bags, the boy and the girl crouched and silently slid into them. Neither of them fully relaxed until their entire backs aligned with the hard floor underneath. The boy shifted a little, turning his eyes to meet with the girl's. After giving each other a final grin, they turned their shoulders in opposite direction, the girl falling asleep in minutes.

The boy couldn't help but think. Staring at plant after plant did not satisfy his urge to relax for at least one moment. While admiring the rich colour of a nearby tomato, he wondered if they had to leave the greenhouse eventually. He disliked the thought, but he knew that one day, they would have to.


	5. Growing

Luckily, the greenhouse had lasted everyone for so long. The two families only had relief to thank the plants and the shelter for their hospitality. For what felt like months (as it really _had_ been months), they lived in heavenly peace. It was long before then that Sofia grabbed a few seeds from whatever leftovers she had produced. She would take them outside and bury them in the almost-frozen earth. Knowing that water would not make much of a difference, she left the spot, forgetting it until one fateful day.

When nobody was eating, everyone would sit around in a circle. When everybody was finally comfortable, they would talk. The adults especially had enough to discuss, their mouths yapping on like there was no tomorrow. They went on about everything from their birth, their childhood, the people they knew, what they had liked before the apocalypse, etcetera, etcetera...

After all those months had passed, that one day came. A usual sunless morning had brought the sister to her feet and she headed outside, promising that she would not go too far. She had done what she had promised, only that she had not expected something so small, yet so big to appear in the dirt. Jumping up and down in euphoria, she ran back into the building and began to shout.

'Come! Come!' she exclaimed, gesturing for everyone to come outside. 'You have to see this!' Stopping at what they were doing, everybody looked at each other in confusion. Then persuaded by the sister's bright expression, they all followed her out with no questions.

Making sure that everyone was outside, the sister then pointed to a particular spot on the ground. The woman flickered her eyes in her direction then suddenly gasped, a wonderful surprise taking over her. The children stared bewilderedly when she began to weep with joy. The woman and eventually, the man and Sofia could not believe their eyes. It was almost impossible, but down on the ground was the sprout of a little green sapling.

For a while afterwards, everyone knew that they had a job to do. Their plans were simple; get into pairs and scout for the distances, planting seeds and acorns wherever they can. One person was responsible for the planting whereas the other was the protector, carrying weapons and looking out for bloodthirsty fiends. After a day's worth of hard work, everyone would return to the house, feeling more than proud of themselves.

For a while longer, they would make sure that the seeds were growing. That took another few months of their time, but all the days would end with smiles. It was now a daily routine to wake up and notice the greenhouse being surrounded by saplings. When the man looked on every morning, he secretly pictured a forest in the near future.

It was a long time later when the boy neared thirteen and the trees were able to touch his chin. The man had mentioned that he was taller than ever, and it was good to see. The boy didn't feel different. Not one bit. That was, until one day, he was conversing with the girl. They talked about random topics, ranging from the possible reappearance of the sky to the waning cold. Then, he let out a loud squeak.

He clapped both hands over his mouth, shocked. The girl burst into short giggles before recollecting herself and asking if he was alright. The boy simply nodded, blushing furiously with utter embarrassment. Releasing his mouth, he wondered how he was able to make that noise. The girl noticed his eyes shifting all over the place as he immediately realised the answer.

No, he thought. He wasn't ready for this. It was happening too fast for him. He didn't think it would happen until another year or so. Quickly excusing himself, he rushed into the greenhouse's storeroom at the back and locked himself in.

The cubicle was absolutely barren, apart from a small mirror that hung by a rusty nail on the door. Leaning on the wall opposite the door, he slid down into an awkward sitting position. He sighed, overwhelmed by an indescribable feeling of weirdness. He lifted his head to stare at the face that stared back. He abruptly stood to his feet, taking a closer examination at his facial features. On his left cheek were two neighbouring pimples, red enough to make themselves stand out. His eyes shifted around his entire face, realising that he looked a lot skinnier than what he had remembered.

He looked down at his clothes, covered in dirt and other things. But the filth was the least of his problems. He shifted them slightly as they had begun to itch and irritate him at every opportunity. The tightness of his clothes became a nuisance as it indicated that he needed new ones. But where and how were the questions his mind began to ask.

Taking in a deep breath, he stepped out of the cubicle. The greenhouse lay empty, apart from the man who had stayed inside. As he sat quietly and stared out into space, the boy decided to join him. The man glanced at the boy and focused his attention on him.

'Why the face?' the man asked.

The boy continued to look down on the ground, recalling the time when the brother experienced that fateful stage. Instead of launching into a conversation about "growing up", the boy said, 'My clothes are getting small.'

The man took a proper look at the boy, specifically eyeing the tears that had formed on the bulging clothes. The significant exposure of skin made it obvious as to why the boy suddenly started to shiver. Without another word, the man stood and walked over to his bag. Quickly unzipping the top, he pulled out a thick pair of denim jeans. He then handed them to the boy and sat back down.

'They might be a bit big,' the man said. 'But I'm sure your belt would gladly help you with that.'

The boy smiled. 'Thank you,' he mumbled.

'If you need new clothes, you can always ask Sofia.' The man pointed at her nearby, picking at a bunch of cotton plants lined up against the wall. Also nearby was the brother, wearing and admiring his newly made sweater.

The boy immediately recalled the brother going through "the changes" a while before he did. He would complain about his clothes beginning to itch and eventually looked like he was about to explode out of them. It didn't take long for everyone to notice his height catching up to that of his father's. And sometimes in mid-complaint, the brother would unintentionally let out a few squeaks. Eventually, he began to sound like a man, filled with bright courage.

The boy then quietly left to rejoin the girl, who was still staring at the plants outside. After asking her about where they had left off, the two resumed to their normal chattiness without a care for the world.


	6. Jack

It was dark when the boy woke up. A bright light beyond the glass building had penetrated through his eyelids, making him sit up in an instant. His sudden movement and his heavy breathing began an immediate chain reaction of the others waking up with him. The girl's eyes were open but she still lay with her shoulder to the ground.

'What is it?' she asked the boy.

The light had now disappeared, but the boy pointed in the direction of where he had last seen it. 'There was someone there,' he whispered. 'I saw a light and I think they're heading off somewhere.'

The adults quickly made it to their feet, directing the children to do the same. The man then grabbed Sofia's rifle and handed his switchblade to his wife. After telling her to stay and protect the others, the man then gestured for the boy to follow.

'I'm going to need you for directions,' the man reasoned.

When the boy began to tie his shoelaces, the girl stepped up.

'I'm coming with you,' she said.

Sofia flinched. She instantly strode over and grabbed her daughter's shoulder.

'No, you're not,' she demanded. 'It could be dangerous!'

The girl glared. 'Three's better than two, Ma. And you know I can fight!' she protested. Before her mother could react, the girl then said, 'I'm not a little girl anymore. Let me join them.'

Sofia didn't dare to show it, but she could feel her heart melt. The girl was right and there was nothing she could do about it. The man then looked her in the eye and assured, 'Don't worry, I've got your rifle. I promise nothing will happen us.'

When Sofia finally gave a nod, the three headed down the aisle. After walking out the door, Sofia followed and locked the door behind them. Briefly watching the three rush out into the open, she then returned to the remaining group.

The man, the boy and the girl trudged through the snow, eyeing all directions to make sure they weren't being followed. The wind was surprisingly light, barely hissing past their ears as they strode. The man would constantly ask for directions to which the boy would reply with what he had recalled. It was another few minutes before the man saw a light in the distance.

The three slowly walked towards, checking to see what they were up against. Luckily as far as they could see, it was just one man. He was holding a fiery branch in one hand and something else in the other arm. He appeared to be wearing a dark, tattered cloak of sorts, partially covering his trousers and grey jacket underneath. The three noticed that he was standing behind a bundle of broken branches.

The lone man placed that "something" down on the ground and circled the pile. By the time the group walked a bit closer, he bent down his fiery torch, setting the pile alight. The branches glowed a bright orange, attracting the man and the girl's main focus. But all this time, the boy stared at the "something" next to the flames. As far as he could see, it was no bigger than an average-sized bag and it was wrapped in a thick blanket.

Oddly enough, the stranger still didn't notice them coming closer and closer. With that, he walked over to the "something" and picked it up. He observed it for a moment, before a loud wail broke the silence. The boy's heart stopped. Frozen in shock, he never thought he would see something so atrocious again. As he watched the stranger carry the bundle over to the flames, the boy let out a long, horrifyingly raged yell.

'Nooo!'

The stranger jolted his head up, seeing the three breaking into a run. He stepped back, also about to break into a run, but the man was quick to arrive. The man pushed him down onto the ground, grabbing the crying baby in the process. The boy was second to arrive, angered tears streaming from his glare.

As the stranger tried to get up, the boy punched him across the face. The boy continued to rage, grabbing him and constantly striking him. The stranger's bloodied face did not calm him, and he continued to lift him and throw him to the ground. The boy became an endless supply of violent yells.

'It's...because...of...bastards...like you!' he screamed in between kicks, the stranger now on the ground, writhing in pain.

Clutching the baby in his arms, the man commanded for the boy to stop. But they were left unheard, and the boy attacked more viciously than ever. The girl rushed over, shouting what the man had shouted before and held the boy back. The boy tried to resist, attempting to leap onto the stranger. The girl clutched his elbows even tighter as the stranger, bloodied and almost blind, jumped up and took off.

'Get back here!' the boy yelled, still trying to release himself.

'Stop!' the girl begged. 'Please, don't!'

As the figure finally disappeared into the dark, the boy collapsed to his knees. The girl knelt down, hugging him as he began to sob uncontrollably. His whole body shook, his anger now no longer with him. Burying his face into the girl's shoulder, he embraced her back. As he tried to say, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry...' the girl softly repeated, 'It's okay, it's okay...'

The man focused on the baby in his arms, still crying and wailing at the top of its lungs. He bent down his head and softly shushed it, to which it began to quieten. While the man was at it, the girl continued to comfort the boy, giving him a gentle kiss on his cheekbone.

* * *

'It's a boy,' the woman announced, folding the baby's blanket back in place.

Everyone was now back at the greenhouse, circling around the peacefully sleeping infant. The day was gradually becoming brighter and they could now see that the baby looked paler than before. His hair, just as equally light brown as his eyes, according to the man. The boy, after a brief glance at the baby, softly sighed and walked out of the building. Staring after him, the girl was quick to follow him out.

They stood side by side just a few feet from the door. The boy's face had already dried minutes ago, but the look of quiet trauma still lingered. When the girl looked at him, he barely reacted.

'I'm sorry you had to see me like that before,' he murmured.

'It's okay,' the girl replied. 'You were really upset.'

The boy shook his head. 'I wasn't just upset.' He paused a bit before he confessed, 'I wanted to kill him.'

The girl spoke his name, but he continued. 'It was just a little baby, and he was going to kill it. But he was the one who deserved to die. And all I wanted to do was punch him, over and over again until he was dead.'

'But you didn't kill him and that's the point,' the girl said.

'Because you were there. I don't know what I would've done if you didn't hold me back.'

The girl gave another thought. 'I've never seen anything like it before. Someone trying to kill a baby, I mean.'

The boy was starting to feel sick. 'I have.'

Rushing through his head was the time his papa was still there. They walked into a little clearing, and the boy was the first to see it. He remembered not being able to talk for a while afterwards as the image was imprinted into his brain. The colour of the charred infant, headless and helpless. He wondered if the child cried before being sent to its death.

'Me and my father were walking,' the boy said. 'And we saw a baby.'

It was the girl's turn to feel nauseous. 'It was dead, wasn't it?' she asked.

All was deadly quiet. Even without saying anything or a nod from the boy, the girl knew. Her heart warmed, but not in the nicest way possible. She then momentarily thought about the baby if they had not saved it, only to banish it from her mind like an insolent intruder. The wind chilled through her wavy hair, sending it past her ears.

'Then what happened?' she asked.

'What else? I felt really bad. I didn't talk for a while because all I could think of was keeping it if we got there in time.'

'At least we saved one this time.'

That would have comforted the both of them, but the mood did not seem to change at all. The silence that followed was always the recurring curse that made things more complicated than they already were. Neither did the freezing temperature help for that matter.

'Thanks for holding me back,' the boy said.

'No problem,' the girl modestly replied, smiling warmly.

The boy's eyes sought hers and he smiled back. When their sights had joined, he moved in for a quick hug. Upon breaking apart, they stared into each others eyes. But the moment was interrupted when the girl looked back into the greenhouse.

'We should head back,' she said, walking over and opening the door.

She gestured for the boy to enter first. When he went in, the girl followed quietly, locking the door. They strode down the aisle side by side, noticing the others noticing them. The others were still curiously circled around the sleeping infant, clothed in the thick blanket.

The man placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. 'Right on time,' he said. 'We were discussing the kid's name.'

The boy grinned, his eyes twinkling slightly. He had not thought about naming a baby before, but he knew it was something very special. His mind was blank, yet he enjoyed the thought of the baby growing up with a specific name. It was something that the baby could keep and the boy smiled even more at the thought.

'What could we name him?' the woman pondered out loud.

Sofia added, 'Definitely something simple. And special, of course.'

The man began to point out as many names he could think of. He began with names such as Nathan, Josh and Ben, but everyone knew that they didn't quite fit the child. The man then blurted out the names of men he had once known. David, Matthew, Adam, Chris...the list went on. By the time he couldn't remember any more names, he momentarily gave up. Then he looked at the boy, who returned the curious stare.

'Tell me,' the man said. 'What was your father's name?'

The boy stared at the baby, then quietly whispered, 'Jack.'

The name immediately stuck to everyone's heads. It was perfect. It was loved already. When the man softly repeated to himself, 'Jack...Jack...' he then smiled. It definitely felt right.

'Jack it is, then.'


End file.
